


The Star Student of the Back Row

by sarathewhale



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Caleb Widogast's Backstory, F/F, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Slow Burn, Underage Drinking, Warnings May Change, beau's dad is garbage, characters added as they show up, no magic, they will all be here i promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2020-05-13 21:39:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19259656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarathewhale/pseuds/sarathewhale
Summary: There is an unspoken rule in every lecture hall about seating.  The front is for suck ups, the middle for the kids who are still scared enough of their parents to try and get Bs.  The very back, though?  That was where it was at.  Beau could show up 15 minutes late, slide into the back row, and play games on her phone until the professor concluded talking about whatever they were talking about and let her go.  There was a camaraderie to it, too, being surrounded by people who didn't give a shit.Which is why that one dude who kept showing up and taking detailed notes in the back row pissed her off more than she cared to admit.(a M9 college AU involving academic blackmail, learning ancient languages to impress girls, and figuring out what the hell Caleb's deal is, anyway)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written fic before but Crit Role has got me so good so I figured I may as well try!!! This fic will explore Beau's relationships with the rest of the M9 in a college setting (while there will be some shipping I am much more interested in their platonic relationships).
> 
> Im doing this casually, but I will hopefully have the next chapter up by the end of the week.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never written fic before but Crit Role has got me so good so I figured I may as well try!!! This fic will explore Beau's relationships with the rest of the M9 in a college setting (while there will be some shipping I am much more interested in their platonic relationships).
> 
> Im doing this casually, but I will hopefully have the next chapter up by the end of the week.
> 
> Enjoy!

There is an unspoken rule in every lecture hall about seating.  The front is for suck ups, the middle for the kids who are still scared enough of their parents to try and get Bs.  The very back, though? That was where it was at. Beau could show up 15 minutes late, slide into the back row, and play games on her phone until the professor concluded talking about whatever they were talking about and let her go.  There was a camaraderie to it, too, being surrounded by people who didn't give a shit. 

Which is why that one dude who kept showing up and taking detailed notes in the back row pissed her off more than she cared to admit. 

Maybe it was because he was breaking the unofficial seating rules (there was certainly enough space in the front), or because her Ancient Languages class was about as entertaining as watching paint dry and she just needed a distraction, but Beau found herself more and more annoyed by this guy every time she came to class.

The guy was a weirdo.  He didn't carry a backpack of any kind, but wore an oversized, ratty coat that he would occasionally pull entire books out of.  He always looked like he was bundled up for the winter, despite it being early Spring, and Beau had never seen him use his phone once in class.  She wasn't even sure he had one.

He would lean forward in his chair, listening to the Professor drone on with rapt attention and writing in a leather bound notebook without looking down at his hands.  He never asked questions, never talked to anyone around him, never skipped. All he did was make Beau and the other back of the class kids look stupid and lazy.

Beau asked Jester her opinion on it one night, when she was trying to decode the study guide her professor had posted in a half hearted attempt to not completely fail the upcoming midterm. 

"I dunno, Beau, maybe he's just really shy," Jester said, blowing on her drying nails.

Beau frowned.  "There are plenty of people who sit up front and don't talk.  Besides, you can hardly hear the lecture all the way in the back, which is perfect for me, but it's like...he's really  _ trying _ to listen.  It's annoying."

"If it's so annoying, maybe you should just move up a little," said Jester, examining her one painted hand.  "Then you would actually know what was going on too, and you could be helping me do my nails super good instead of studying for a test you know nothing about!"

Beau groaned, setting her head down on her desk.  She was so screwed.

 

\---------------------

 

The midterm for Ancient Languages went about as horribly as Beau expected, but she had hoped she could at least rely on the curve to keep her above a failing grade.  No such luck, though. The bright red 56 on the top of her test shattered that dream instantly. Gods, Dairon was gonna be so pissed. Just the thought of getting chewed out by her overbearing caseworker was enough to give Beau a migraine.   _ Not mad, just disappointed.   _ Beau sighed.  She could deal with mad.  It was the condescending faux maternal shit she wasn't good with.  

Beau shoved her test in her backpack and glanced over at the seat where the star student of the back row usually sat, only to find it empty.   _ Huh.   _ She had never arrived before him, much less seen him arrive late.  Maybe he was sick or something.

However, he slipped in while the TAs were finishing passing out midterms, sat down a few seats away from Beau, pulled the same old notebook out of his coat and began to write.  He didn't ask for his test back, either.

That managed to make Beau's frustration headache even worse.  Was he so confident he did perfectly that he didn't even care to see his actual results?  What a smug asshole.

She didn't know what possessed her to lean over and address him.

"You know we got midterms back today, right?"

Beau saw his pen stop for a brief second, but then continue to write.  He was ignoring her. Hell no. 

Beau loudly cleared her throat, which did manage to get the guys attention.  He looked over at her wearily.

"Can I...help you?"  His voice was soft. An accent, too, though Beau couldn't place exactly where it was from.

"The midterms," Beau stated flatly.  "They passed them back today."

The man paused for a second, blue eyes making contact with hers before flitting back down to his hands.  

"Oh...I suppose they did."

"You can get yours back, you know."

"Ja...I know," he said, before turning his attention back to whatever he was writing.  Beau scowled. This dude really wasn't helping her already sour mood. She slouched down into her chair, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes.  At least she couldn't really hear the professor back here. That was one less headache. 

 

\------------

 

After an hour and a half of dicking around online, texting Fjord, and trying to ignore the failed test burning a hole through her backpack, class was dismissed.  As Beau slung her backpack over her shoulder, she watched the smartass guy glance over at her once, then quickly walk out of class. What was his deal? Why would he put in so much effort if he didn't even care about the outcome?

A buzz from her pocket.  Beau pulled out her phone.

 

**From: Dairon**

_ Hello Beauregard.  Hope all is well. I would like to check in when you have the time to call.  Dairon. _

 

Shit. 

Great.  Just great.  There was no way Dairon could have known about her failing grade that quickly, but Beau had not once been able to lie to her successfully either.

 

\-----------

 

"...and then he just fucking, pretended that I wasn't even there," Beau took another swing at the punching bag in front of her.  "like he thought he could  _ pretend  _ that there was someone else I was talking to even though there was  _ absolutely  _ no one else around--"

"Went that bad, huh?"

Beau stopped, looking down at Mollymauk Tealeaf, sitting cross legged on the floor of the gym.

"What do you mean?"

"Whenever you're mad, you always deflect it to the most banal things," Molly leaned back, taking another sip of his iced coffee. "So, how bad did you fail that test?  It was today, right?"

Beau responded by roundhouse kicking the punching bag in a way that her foot narrowly missed Molly's face.  Molly just laughed.

"Oh, yikes.  You totally failed."

Beau scowled.  "Fuck you, Molly.  Why are you even here, anyway? You're wearing jeans in a fucking gym."

"I said I would meet you here, dear," Molly grinned. "I never said I would actually  _ exercise. _ "

"I should have just asked Fjord," Beau muttered, punching the bag a few more times for good measure.

Molly rolled his eyes.  "Listen, if you want my thoughts on this mystery man, I'll give them to you.  I think you're assuming the worst. What if he just didn't take the midterm? Did you see him when you actually took it?"

" _ That's  _ your theory? Really?" Beau asked incredulously.  "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. Why would someone do that much work for a class and then not try to pass?"

"Did you see him though?"

"I mean, no, but…" Beau trailed off.  She didn't remember seeing him at the midterm, but she had also pulled an all-nighter studying and had been slightly delirious from lack of sleep.  Though, looking back on it, she didn't remember seeing him at  _ any _ of they days there were tests assigned.

"You're thinking too hard, dear.  It's a bad look on you."

"Whatever," Beau sighed.  "He's probably just auditing the class, right?"

Molly shook his head.  "Nope, this school doesn't do that.  Remember how last semester Fjord got up at the crack of dawn every day cause he had to take all those backbreaking OCHEM classes?"

Beau did not.  "Sure," she said, hitting the punching bag two more times in rapid succession.

"Well, he wanted to take this elective.  Some PE one, I think, like he doesn't work out enough," Molly said sarcastically, taking another sip of coffee. "Anyway, since he was already taking max credits, they wouldn't let him sign up without paying a bunch extra, he can't audit for free, etc, etc.  Real classist, if you ask me."

Beau let out a sardonic laugh.  "Doesn't surprise me. I'd almost feel guilty spending all this money on this school if I didn't know who had to foot the bill"

Molly chuckled.  "Maybe  _ you _ should take extra classes. Really stick it to your old man."

"And have more grades to explain to Dairon?" Beau balked. "No thanks."

 

\---------------

 

A few hours later, Beau was holding onto a rolling chair, helping steady a precariously balanced Jester pin up a sheet to one of the walls of their shared room.  Apparently one of her homework assignments was to try and emulate a famous artist from the past, and Jester had (unsurprisingly) chosen Pollock. Objectively, the idea of a roommate splattering paint all over her room wasn't the most appealing thing, but with Jester, Beau found it hard to care.  While she had never had to share a room before, and wasn't super excited to do so when she moved in, Jester's over the top friendliness had managed to erode Beau's cynicism faster than...well, anyone. She remembered her first day at Zidash University, arriving with her singular backpack and small suitcase to see her roommate-to-be building  _ a literal couch  _ in their small living space.  The lack of any personal effects on Beau's side of the room hadn't lasted long, though.  A day in, Jester (along with that theater kid named Molly Jester had met at orientation) dragged Beau to the nearby mall to get her a bunch of "super great room stuff".  And while most of the things bought that day eventually emigrated to Jester's side of the room, Beau managed find a few posters to give her walls a little color. Well, that and the enormous flower mural Jester had painted alongside the posters, which managed to get her in hot water the second time in as many days.

Beau's phone buzzed in her pocket.  Making sure to keep one hand on the chair, she fished it out and checked the caller ID.   _ Shit.   _ Beau took a deep breath and put the phone to her ear.

"Heyyyy, Dairon.  I was actually just about to call you."  Jester looked down at Beau, eyebrows raised.

"Hello Beauregard, I hope you are well.  It has been a while since we last talked."  Right off the bat, as usual. She didn't seem particularly formal though, at least no more than she usually was, which was a good sign.  

"Yeah, you know, I've been super busy,"  Beau began. If she could talk about other things for long enough she could distract Dairon from asking academic questions.  It had worked before. Once. "Fjord is trying out for the Rowing team again, so I've been helping him with that, and I'm also helping the Moondrop people build the set for their Fall show, which  _ does  _ count as volunteer work, as you should know."

At the sound of that, Jester smirked and began to wiggle her eyebrows suggestively.  They both knew the only reason that Beau was helping build the set was so she could spend more time with Molly's absolutely gorgeous friend, Yasha.  Jester already had a pinterest board for their wedding. 

"That is good," said Dairon.  "I hope these things are not getting in the way of your studies, though."

_ Shit.  _ Distraction wasn't going to work this time. 

"No, no, of course not," said Beau, trying to sound casual while helping Jester down from the swivel chair.  "Studies are still...number one, my top priority, yeah." 

"Then I assume you are maintaining your grades, yes?"

Here it was, the moment of truth.  Beau steadied herself and began, "Yeah, of course."

A long pause.  

" _ Beauregard. _ "

"Hmm?"

Jester gave Beau an apologetic wince and mouthed " _ good luck" _ as Beau stepped into the hallway, clutching her phone a little tighter.  

Dairon was unrelenting.  "If there is something you need to tell me, please do.  I don't have time to be stalled at the moment."

Beau cursed internally.  She usually considered herself a good liar, but Dairon was cut from a different cloth.  "Well," she started. "There was one little midterm I didn't do  _ so _ great on, but it's honestly not a big deal, I'll be able to get that grade up."

"Which class is this?" asked Dairon, her tone clipped.  

"You know, the Ancient Language one I had to take for gen ed.  It's kind of a bs class, it's not  _ super _ important."

Dairon paused.  "Last I remember, you failed the first midterm for that class.  Did you fail the second as well?"

Beau sighed.  No use making excuses now.  "...yeah."

"Beauregard, you know you would have to do perfectly on the final to pass this class now, right?"

"Yeah," said Beau, rubbing her temple.  "Listen, I fucked up big time, big surprise.  I can take it again next semester, I promise."

"No, you can't."

Beau frowned. "What?"

"Beauregard, your test scores to get into Zidash U were almost flawless.  You  _ are  _ smart enough to pass  _ this  _ semester, you just don't care."

"I guess it's just hard to give a damn about learning about Celestial.  I mean, who even speaks that shit anymore?" Beau retorted.

"Maybe the fact that your continued financial support at this college depends on it," Dairon said coolly.

_ Wait, what?  _  Beau gripped her phone and began to walk further down the hall, lowering her voice.  "What the hell does that mean?"

"This is why I initially called," said Dairon.  "Your parents have taken your recent drop in grades as a sign that you may be unfit for higher education, and are threatening to relitigate their payment of your tuition if you continue to fail."

Beau's stomach dropped.  "That's bullshit," she hissed. "That's bullshit and you know it.  Grades have nothing to do with that, it's cause im a  _ fucking girl-" _

"I  _ know _ , Beauregard," Dairon cut in.  "And I am just as unhappy about it as you are.  But your grades make a much stronger legal case than your father's…antiquated views."

Beau sat down, leaning against the wall.  She was a legally parentless 18 year-old with a criminal record, no credit, and absolutely no money whatsoever.  There was no way she could pay for college on her own, and she highly doubted anyone would lend to someone with grades like hers.  The headache that had been growing all day was impossible to ignore now.

"Beauregard, are you still there?"

Beau tried to compose herself.  "Yeah...yeah," she said. "I'll talk to my professor tomorrow about extra credit, I promise.  I'll...i'll figure it out."

"Good," said Dairon.  "I know you can do this.  You are more than capable, and you are more than fit to be where you are.  I have to go, but if there is anything you need of me, you know where to find me. Good luck."  

"Yeah, I," Beau trailed off when she heard the call end.  "I'll do that…"

What a mess.  She thought she was done dealing with this shit now that she was a legal adult and whatnot, but apparently she was wrong.   _ It's no one's fault but your own _ , a voice told her.   _ You fucked this up, as usual. _

Beau groaned and stood up, walking back to her and Jester's room.  She entered, not pausing to see what Jester was up to before flopping face first on her bed.  

"Awwwww, Beau," she heard Jester say.  "It went that bad, huh?"

Beau looked over.  Jester had stopped working on her art project, and her hands were covered in red paint.  Any other day, Beau would have laughed about the fact that her roommate looked like she just killed somebody, but these were dire times.  Beau just groaned and buried her head back in her pillow. 

"Oookay, well," Jester began, gingerly sitting on the edge of Beau's bed. "Do you wanna talk about it, or should I text Fjord and we can watch the worst movie he has on his laptop?"

That actually sounded perfect.  Beau rolled over. " _ Definitely  _ the second one."

Fjord showed up about 20 minutes later with a bottle of bottom shelf white wine not so discreetly hidden in his jacket.  Beau had met him through Molly, and the two had bonded over their respective eccentric tiefling roommates. The three of them ended up sprawled out on the floor, Fjord and Beau passing the bottle between them as Jester munched on popcorn and commented on the wonders of terrible early 2000s CGI special effects.  And though this would usually be an adequate distraction from a bad day, the pit in Beau's stomach remained.

 

\-------------------

 

A few days and polite emails exchanged later, Beau had an appointment with her Ancient Languages professor, a guy named Errenis.  However, the soonest time he was available had Beau waking up at 8am on a  _ Saturday _ , which, in her opinion, should be a crime in and of itself.  The first sacrifice she had to make to not crash and burn here, she supposed.

Wiping the sleep from her eyes, Beau made her way towards the Language building, and was met with a torrential downpour as soon as she left the dorm.   _ Great, just great.   _ Not remembering to bring an umbrella and not really giving enough of a shit to go back and get one, Beau pulled her hood up over her head and headed out into the rain.

After a soggy walk through a mostly empty campus, Beau found herself approaching the two story brick building that housed the languages department at Zidash University.  As she approached the entrance, she noticed that she wasn't alone. The familiar redheaded man was standing under the small awning to the building, intently reading a very battered looking book.  Beau began to wonder why he was reading outside in the rain, but pushed the thoughts out of her mind. She didn't have the time to deal with that weirdo at the moment. Beau approached the door and reached in her pocket for her keycard.  It wasn't there. She frowned and checked the other pocket. Not there either. Cursing under her breath, Beau set her backpack on the wet ground and began to fish through all the shit in her bag for her key. After about 5 minutes of loud searching, Beau gave up, and turned to her classmate, who was still ignoring her.

"Hey, man, you think you could let me in?"

The man jumped a little at the sound of her voice.  Had he actually not noticed her at all? He turned towards Beau, eyeing her warily.

"... _ was? _ "

"The door," said Beau flatly. "I forgot my card.  Can you use yours to key me in?"

The man stiffened, absentmindedly scratching one of his arms through his worn coat.

"I ...um…"

Beau frowned.  "Listen, I know you don't wanna talk to me or whatever, I get that, but I  _ really  _ don't wanna have to walk all the way back to my room in this rain, so if you could do me this one solid, I promise I'll never bother you again, okay?"

The man met her gaze for a brief second, then looked down again.  "I don't…. " He paused. "I have forgotten mine as well, it seems."

Beau narrowed her eyes.  "And that's why you were out here? Just waiting for someone else to come?"

"...Ja."

Beau could smell a lie when she saw one.  It was one of the few upsides to Dairon's alarming levels of insight--some of it had rubbed off on her.  But it was more than that, though. This guy looked downright  _ nervous _ . 

"It's 8am on a Saturday morning and pouring rain.  It's pretty unlikely that anyone else would come here."

The man began to fidget with his coat sleeve, picking at the frayed hem. "The janitor usually comes around this time," he said quietly. 

"And you know that because…." Beau began expectantly.

The man still refused to meet Beau's gaze.  "I should be going," he mumbled, tucking his book back into his coat and heading out into the rain.  As he began to move past her, Beau put her hand on his shoulder, attempting to stop him. What she didn't expect was his sudden flinch from her touch.  She quickly pulled her hand back, feeling like kind of a dick. Still, she pressed on.

"Listen, man" Beau started. "Do you...are you not a student here?"

The man said nothing.

"I mean, you seem super smart and all, but you didn't take the midterm, and now you're telling me that you wait here to let other people let you into this building on weekends.  Are you squatting here? Is that it?"

His eyes met hers, not immediately flitting back down to the ground as she had come to expect.  He looked resigned. "Are you going to tell the Professor?"

"That you're squatting here?"

"No, I am not..." he paused, a little exasperated. "I am not squatting here.  But you are correct in your observations. I am not a student at Zidash University."

Beau frowned. "Why?"

"...Why what?"

"Why aren't you a student?" Beau asked.  "You certainly seem smart enough, and you work a million times harder than me at a class you aren't even  _ in.  _  Why not apply?"

The man looked down again.  "I can't."

"If its a money thing, this school gives out a ton in scholarships.  My friend Fjord is getting a full ride here, I could ask him for the right people to talk to."

"I can't," he repeated, more forcefully this time.

There was an awkward silence.  What  _ was _ this guy's deal?

The man spoke up again.  "You did not answer my question, earlier.  Are you going to tell the Professor about my lack of enrollment?"

Beau paused.  There was certainly no reason to, and Beau wasn't a snitch, but….

"Your notes," she stated. "I see you take crazy good notes every class.  Share them with me, and I don't tell on you."

He met Beau's gaze again, looking unsure.

"That is...all? You want?"

Beau shrugged. "I mean, yeah," she said. "I'm in deep shit if I fail this class, but I sure as hell don't wanna actually listen to a lecture about Celestial etymology or whatever the fuck, so we cut a deal.  Gimme your nerd notes, and you can keep coming to the most boring class in existence for fun, hm?"

The man frowned, pausing for a moment.  He then stuck out his hand towards Beau.

"Deal," he said.

"I mean, you don't gotta be so formal, but whatever," said Beau, begrudgingly taking his hand and shaking.  "I'm Beau, by the way."

"...Caleb Widogast."

Caleb took out his book and continued reading.  The two stood in silence under the awning, waiting for the janitor to come and unlock the doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (yes, Jester did put her paint covered hands on Beau's bed)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for all the nice comments!! They keep me motivated!
> 
> This chapter was supposed to be shorter than the last, but I got a little carried away, so enjoy!
> 
> (also, if you wanna talk cr in general shoot me a message and I will give you my tumblr!)

Beau was at a complete loss.

After managing to successfully beg for a tiny extra credit assignment from Professor Errenis, as well as the notes given to her by Caleb, Beau had walked back to her dorm room feeling the tiniest bit more confident about her academic prospects.  Seeing that Jester was still sleeping peacefully, Beau had quietly hung up her wet coat, grabbed the notes from her bag, and slipped out into the hallway. Sitting down on the floor outside her door, she began to skim the pages. The first thing she noticed is that they were handwritten, which was weird.  Who would give their only notes on a class away? Beau dismissed that train of thought. Maybe he had made a copy, or just didn't care. It's not like he needed them to study for any tests, after all. She was probably putting them to better use than he ever would. Beau read the first line of Caleb's narrow, perfectly neat script.  Then she read it again. Then again. Cursing to herself, Beau flipped to another page and tried to start from there. Nope, still just as confusing. It was like it was a different language. In fact, it seemed like some of the sections were  _actually_ written in a different language.  Beau groaned and put her head in her hands.  

"You're up early."  A voice from above her.  Beau raised her head to see Fjord, fully dressed in what looked to be workout clothes.  Typical. The guy would only forgo waking up at the asscrack of dawn when Molly or Beau (or typically both) could convince him to go out drinking with them the night before.  Fjord peeked over at the handwritten pages Beau had crinkled in her hands. "And studying, too? Am I dreaming?"

"Hah, hah, very funny," said Beau flatly.  "And I'm trying too, I guess." Beau sighed.   " _Trying_ being the operative word."

Fjord sat down next to Beau, taking one of the pages from her hands.  He examined it for a second, then gave a long, low whistle. "That is some...detailed stuff," he remarked.  "Who gave it to you?"

"Just some weirdo in my class." Beau should have figured his notes would be ridiculously complicated.  She hadn't seen him distracted in lecture  _once._ "They're hurting more than helping, honestly.  I mean? Derivation? Philological research? What the fuck does any of this shit mean?"

"Hell if I know." Fjord shrugged apologetically. "Why don't you just ask him for clarification?"

"I dunno," Beau replied.  "I hardly know him"

Fjord raised an eyebrow.  "You hardly know him but he gave you his handwritten notes?"

Beau thought back to the morning, how Caleb almost seemed ready to bolt when she had started asking questions.  His refusal to meet her gaze, acting like she had just uncovered something that could send his whole world crashing down on him.  And she had taken advantage of that, like the asshole she was. Beau pushed the thoughts out of her mind. It wasn't like she would have ever actually told on him anyway.  "Yeah, well we've talked enough for him to do that for me, I guess." She hoped the lie would satisfy Fjord. Even though his "secret" seemed pretty inconsequential, Caleb's reaction to it made Beau reluctant to share. 

Fjord gave her a wry smile.  "Seems like you're selling yourself short there a bit.  In fact, I reckon you were wrong about believing you could only meet people through Jester."  Beau furrowed her brows. She sure as hell regretted  _that_ past drunken confession at the moment.  "So, what's your new friend's name?"

"Caleb," she snapped. "And he's  _not_ my friend."

"Alright, alright," Fjord chuckled, raising his hands in surrender.  "He isn't your friend, sure." As Fjord pushed himself up from the floor, Beau rolled her eyes and returned to futilely trying to understand the notes.  "Well, don't completely burn yourself out on that today. Molly wants us all to go to a midnight showing of  _Tusk Love_ at that little theater near the Pentamarket, and i'm gonna need another sane person with me."

Oh, gods.  Last time they had seen that movie in theaters the two tieflings had dragged Fjord onto the stage to act out Oskar's part alongside the film.  If Beau remembered correctly, both Jester  _and_ Molly had played Genevieve, which at one point resulted in them both swooning into Fjord's arms at the same time, knocking him over.

(And of course Beau had remembered correctly.  She recorded the entire thing.)

Beau smiled.  "Of course."

 

\-----------------

 

Two hours later and Beau was ready to throw in the towel.  Jester had come and gone (thankfully bringing her some stolen doughnuts from the dining hall), as had Molly, who looked considerably hungover (enough simply pass by with a simple "hey", as opposed to the usual squabbling they tended to get into) and Beau was still not any closer to understanding Caleb's dense notes.   

She had emigrated to one of the few study rooms in the building, which were all but empty on a Saturday morning post-midterms.  The dead quiet theoretically should have done her good, but the silence became maddening, and the only thing distracting her were Caleb's even more maddening notes.  She had grabbed her laptop and translated some of the writing (it turned out to be Zemnnian, which was sort of interesting. Sort of.) but it had not been in any simpler diction.

She should have asked for his number or something.  He probably didn't even have a phone, but on the off chance he did it sure could have been useful to ask him where she could even start.  

Beau sat back in her chair, staring at the ugly paneled ceiling. She was so royally fucked.  She had confidently assumed that this could be an easy solution to all her problems, but she was wrong, as usual.   One singular extra credit assignment wasn't gonna save her if she couldn't understand the basic class material. 

Gods, what was she gonna tell Jester?   _Hey, Jes, so I know I'm your first real friend and you're pretty much mine too, but I decided that it was more important for me to procrastinate than make sure I was doing well here, and now my psycho father is gonna make sure I can't go here anymore, so we can't be roommates and I probably won't ever see you again, sorry 'bout that!_

Beau swallowed down the growing lump in her throat.   _No. Fuck that._ She was going to figure this out, one way or another, and if it involved another painfully awkward conversation with Caleb, then so be it.

 

\-----------------

 

The following Monday, Beau made sure to show up a little early for her Ancient Languages class.  Sure enough, she saw Widogast sitting in the back corner, hunched over a book. Beau walked quickly over to him and dropped the notes on his desk, causing him to jump a bit in his seat. 

"These were not helpful. At all," Beau spoke through gritted teeth.

Caleb looked up at Beau, saw her frustrated expression, and then immediately looked back down.  "I...I assure you, none of the information I gave was incorrect or irrelevant to the class," he mumbled.

Oh. Right.  This guy was about as easy to scare as a wild deer.  Beau internally scolded herself, and tried again. She sat down next to Caleb instead.  "Yeah, man, I'm sure." she began diplomatically. "It all sounded super smart. That was the problem."

"All of the terms have been explained in class before."

Beau's jaw clenched.  "You don't have to be an assole about it.  I told you what the problem was." 

Caleb stayed silent.   _Fuck. Diplomacy, Beau, diplomacy._

Beau started again, smiling in the "polite way" Fjord had coached her. "I mean, do you think you could dumb it down a little next time?  I really can't fail this class. It would be super helpful."

"I suppose...I could try," he murmured. "Although…it may be very difficult to simplify it more than I already have."

Beau's face fell.  She got up from her seat with a force that caused Caleb to jump again.  This time she didn't really care. "You know what, screw this, keep your notes," she spat.  "I don't need people like you calling me dumb. I can figure it out myself."

As Beau began to stalk away, she felt a tug on her jacket.  She turned around to see Caleb clutching the end of it, looking up at her with an intensity she didn't know he was capable of.  "Wait," he insisted. "Just...sit back down. Please."

Beau stopped, then rolled her eyes and sat back down in a huff.

"I did not," Caleb paused for a moment. "I did not mean to insinuate that you were lacking intelligence.  I apologize. I only meant to say that I...that the concepts can be difficult to explain only in writing."

Beau looked over at him.  Whatever intensity he had in getting her to sit back down had dissipated, and he was back to looking down at his hands.  "So what? You wanna read them to me or something?" 

"No," Caleb frowned, Beau's halfhearted attempt at a joke falling on deaf ears.  "Though I could help...talk them through with you. Explain what I mean."

"What, like tutor me?"

"Ja, if that is what you need." 

 _To keep quiet_ was the obvious end to the response left unsaid.  It made Beau feel like an asshole, but then again, she  _really, truly, desperately_ did need the help.  And then there was the thought of telling Jester she had to drop out again and nope, any bad feelings now didn't even compare to that hypothetical.  

"Yeah, that would, um, that would be good," Beau said sheepishly.  "Are you free tomorrow or…?"

"Nott gets out at five, are you available at four?  We could meet in the Library, but you would have to let me in if that is alright."  He lowered his voice a little at the end, despite there being no one around them.

"Sure, man, sounds good." Beau was gonna ask who the hell Nott was, but when she turned towards him he already had his head back in his book.  Beau rolled her eyes. Whatever.

 

\-----------------

 

After two more classes and a particularly tiring workout with Fjord, Beau dragged herself up the 5 flights of stairs to her and Jester's room, making a mental note to ask maintenance about the elevator, which had been broken for the past week.  As she walked down the hall she began to hear commotion, and turning the corner she saw her roommate and her RA, an obnoxiously preppy woman named Lyra, in heated discussion. Guess the day's excitement wasn't over quite yet. As Beau approached the two, Lyra turned and began stomping away, Jester enthusiastically waving as she did.

 "Byeeee Lyraaa! Good to see you!"

"What happened this time?"

 Jester turned around.  Her entire front side was splattered with green paint, the smock she was wearing not doing much to save her clothes.  "Oh hey Beau! I was just chatting with Lyra, she came over again to chat with me about my art project!"

Beau raised an eyebrow. Lyra came over to their room to "chat" fairly often: there was the Ikea couch the first day, the flower mural the second, the time Jester installed a fully functional oven in their room, the time Jester made a giant dick out of post-it-notes on their window for the whole campus to see (Beau had actually helped with that one), and the time Jester made a game of throwing water balloons from 5 stories up at random passers-by were all notable examples.  Beau peeked into the room. The floor area was covered in multiple blue tarps, as were their beds. Laying on the floor, atop one of the tarps, was the Jackson Pollock project Jester had been working on the past week. Everything was indiscriminately splattered with green paint. The room faintly smelled of smoke.

Also, Mollymauk was there, lounging upside down on their couch, texting.

"The fuck are you doing here?" Beau asked.

"Hello to you too," Molly deadpanned, not looking up from his phone.  "Jester texted me saying she had a quote-enquote 'paint bomb'. Obviously I had to see the damage." 

"It was  _awesome!_ " Jester exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air and walking into their room.  "My new best friend in my GE chem lab helped me make it." Jester put a paint covered hand on her chin, suddenly frowning.  "Though, it did make a wayyy louder noise than she said it would."

Beau balked.  A noise?! "Jester," she began slowly.  "This paint bomb of yours...is actually explosive?"

 "Mmmm-hmmm."

"And where did you get the materials to make it explode?"

"From my new friend in my lab, duh, I already told you that!"

"So you guys...stole chemicals to do this?"

Jester shook her head. "No, no, Beau.  She's my lab instructor and the TA for the class! She can't  _steal_ them, it's her lab!"

Molly let out a loud laugh. "Oh my  _god_ , that's hilarious.  I wish I had a TA like that."

Jester grinned. "Ja, I know right? She's like, super great."  She turned to Beau, who was at a loss for words. "Awww, Beau, you didn't get to see the paint bomb, I would have waited for you!"

"It's, uh, it's cool," said Beau.  She stepped into their room and set her bag down, making sure to find a paint free spot to put it.  It's not that she wasn't curious to see what a "paint bomb" would look like, she just didn't want to give Lyra a second heart attack today.   

"Ja, I'll get my new friend to make another one, and I'll make  _sure_ you're there for it this time," Jester stated.  She paused, and Beau saw Molly and her exchange a conspiratorial look.  Jester took a deep breath. "  _Speaking_ of new friends, Fjord told us something verrrry interesting earlier today."

Oh dear.  Leave it to Jester to take something very small and blow it completely out of context, and leave it to Mollymauk to never fail to enable it. 

"What did Fjord tell you?" Beau asked cautiously.

"Oh, just that you became friends with this really smart guy in your class and you get along so well that he gives you all his notes and that he sees how super awesome you are-"

"Well, that's a little exaggerated," Beau said, cutting Jester off.

"I dunno, Beau, that's what I heard from Fjord, too."  _God damn it Molly._  Beau looked over at him, and he had his signature shit eating grin plastered on his face. "I think you're being overly modest, dear." 

"Yeah, Beau," Jester agreed.  "There's no need to be shy." She began to rifle through her desk before pulling out her sketchbook.  She flipped to a new page, sat down on the floor next to Molly, and looked up at Beau expectantly. "So! Tell me all about him!  What's his name? What does he look like? What does he like to do?" Jester wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Is he hot?"

Beau wrinkled her nose. "Ew, no."

Molly went back to looking at his phone. "She's a lesbian, Jester. Of course she doesn't think he's hot."

Jester shrugged. "I'm not gay but I still think Yasha is hot."

"First of all, debatable." Jester opened her mouth to protest but Molly continued.  "Second of all, of course you think Yasha's hot. Everyone does. She's objectively gorgeous.  It transcends sexuality."

Jester made a hum of acknowledgement and began to draw.  "Ok ok, good point. I'm gonna assume he's like, the most gorgeous man who ever existed."

"Oh, for sure, for sure."

" _Guys_ ," Beau snapped.  Both the tieflings turned to look up at her, Jester expectant, Molly smirking.  "He's  _really_ not my friend.  We've talked maybe twice, and neither time was pleasant."

Jester cocked her head to one side, frowning.  "Well, do you at least know his name?"

"It's Caleb," Beau sighed.

"That's like, halfway to being best friends with someone," Jester remarked sagely.  Molly furiously nodded in agreement.

"He's helping me not completely fail my Ancient Languages class," said Beau flatly.  "That's all."

Jester just gave her a skeptical look, which Beau decided to ignore.  She began to drag the tarp off her bed and inspect the damage. Surprisingly enough, there was only a small splatter of paint near her pillow.  Thank gods for the little miracles.

 

\-----------------

 

**_From: Dairon_ **

_Beauregard.  I have another case that will require me to be without my phone for the next couple of weeks.  I wish this were not the case, but in the event of an emergency, please contact Zeenoth in my stead._

_I expect the next time I see you will be in person.  Please do not put off what we last talked about, for your sake more than mine.  I know you are capable._

 

**_To Dairon:_ **

_case? what case? where are you going?_

 

**_To Dairon:_ **

_why can't you keep your phone?_

 

**_To Dairon:_ **

_ill have you know that i actually did get a tutor for the lang class. you surprised?_

 

**_To Dairon:_ **

_fine. don't respond. whatever._

 

After staring at her phone for 5 minutes, waiting for Dairon's usual prompt response,  Beau cursed and shoved it back in her pocket. What kind of situation required a caseworker to go off the grid?  From all she had seen in her brief time living at the Cobalt Soul, they seemed like just an underfunded group of government bureaucrats tasked with wrangling the unruly children of rich assholes.  That, and maintaining libraries for some reason? Beau remembered asking Dairon about it once, a while back, and the elf had gone into a whole spiel about ancient traditions and balances of power that went way over her head.   As was becoming more and more typical these days, Beau found herself wishing that past-Beau had paid better attention.

Beau pushed away her concern as she saw Caleb Widogast ascending the steps of the library, towards her, wearing the same coat she had always seen him in.  Seriously, did he ever take that thing off? Beau forced a smile and he did not return it.

"Shall we begin?" he asked.

 

\-----------------

 

Beau had expected Caleb's teaching style to reflect the same quiet nervousness apparent in all of their past interactions.  Turns out, she was completely, 100 percent wrong. The guy was an _asshole_ about it. 

"Wrong," Caleb said, his tone clipped.  "Try again."

They were reviewing her failed midterm, and had spent the last 10 minutes on one single question.  "Can you just tell me?" Beau snapped. "I obviously  _don't_ know the answer, if I did I wouldn't have messed it up in the  _first place._ " 

"Frustration will not help you think clearly, Beauregard."  That was another fun thing Caleb had taken to calling her, after glancing at her full name written at the top of her test.  Like he wasn't already weirdly formal enough.

Beau groaned and leaned back in her seat.  "You're, like, the worst teacher  _ever_ , man."

Caleb paused. "I can assure you that's not true.  Now  _think,_ Beauregard.  Celestial contains over 100 words for god because…?"

"They were superstitious as fuck back then, we already went over that.  I don't see why I need to memorize every specific fucking word."

"You don't," Caleb retorted. "Look at the list I gave you, and figure it out."

Beau sighed and tried one more time, looking at the list of Celestial words.  It was a very pretty looking language, at least. She furrowed her brows, going from word to word and trying to find similarities.

"This...curly part? At the end?" she guessed, pointing to what she was looking at.

"Correct," Caleb responded.  "All words pertaining to divine beings contain that suffix.  Let's move on."

"Wait wait wait," Beau growled.  "It was that simple? Why did you make me guess a million times? You could have just fucking told me."

"If I made it easy for you, you would not have truly improved," Caleb stated simply.  What a dick. Beau began muttering curses under her breath when she heard a familiar voice in front of her.

"Hello, Beau."

Beau looked up.   _Holyshitholyshitholyshit._ Standing in front of her, on the other side of the library table, was Yasha in all her 6'3" of amazonian gorgeousness.  Beau cleared her throat and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Oh, hey, Yasha, funny running into you here," said Beau, trying to sound as casual as she could possibly manage.

"Ja, well, you know.  I was just," Yasha paused, lifting up a large textbook.  "getting books, I guess."

"Oh yeah, yeah, I totally feel you," said Beau quickly.  "I mean, uhh, I get that. I get books...all the time...too."  _Oh my god, she was so stupid.  What the fuck did that even mean?_

"Ja…" There was an awkward silence, before Yasha cleared her throat and turned to Caleb.  "I'm sorry. I don't think we have ever met before."

"Caleb Widogast," Caleb responded quietly, his strict demeanor switching off like a lightbulb when talking to Yasha.

"Yasha," she responded.  "It is nice to ah, meet you.  So you guys-"

"He's my tutor," Beau cut in quickly, not wanting a repeat of the Molly and Jester debacle she had to endure the day before.

"Oh, that's nice," she responded, leaning over and gingerly taking one of the note sheets Caleb had made for Beau.  She frowned, reading the page. 

" _θεός_ ," she read allowed.

At the sound of that, Caleb perked up. " _μιλάς ουράνιος?_ "

Yasha looked up from the page, looking pleasantly surprised.  " _Ναι, είναι η μητρική μου γλώσσα."_

Huh?

Beau watched, dumbstruck, as Yasha and Caleb began to converse in a sing-song language she didn't understand.  She had never seen Caleb so animated, nor Yasha smile as many times outside of talking to Molly. After a few minutes, Yasha gave them a wave.

"Bye Beau, it was good to see you." 

"You...too," murmured Beau.  As Yasha walked away, Beau gave Caleb a pointed look.

"How did you do that," she demanded.

"Do what?"

"Talk to her like that, duh!" Beau exclaimed. "I've never seen her light up that quickly!"

"Well, it is Celestial," Caleb responded, pointing down that the pages of study sheets.  "It is very rarely spoken nowadays, but your large friend told me she comes from a town where they still do."

"Do you?"

Caleb turned to look at her. " _Was?_ "

"Come from a town where they speak it too."

"Ah, nein. I, um." Caleb looked down at his hands.  "I picked it up when I was younger."

"Just, on your own for fun, or…?" Beau prodded.

"...Ja. I was simply curious."

Beau didn't believe that one bit, but she decided to drop it for the time being.  "Could you teach me?" she asked instead.

Caleb gave her a puzzled look.  "You are suddenly interested in Celestial," he said flatly, more of a statement of disbelief than a question.

Beau scratched the back of her neck absentmindedly, trying to seem casual.  "Yeah, well, I figured since so much of the class is learning  _about_ Celestial, it may be...helpful, academically, to uh. Know a little."

Caleb's eyes flitted to her, then over across the library to where Yasha was checking out her books, and then back to her.  "Ja, alright," he said, and Beau could have sworn she heard a hint of amusement in his voice. "We can start with common phrases.  Repeat after me.  _γεια σας_ "

" _γεια σας"_

"Nein."

Beau gritted her teeth.  Right. Back to the asshole-teacher schtick.  She took a deep breath and tried again.

 

\-----------------

 

Around 45 minutes later, Beau had managed to learn a few introductory phrases in Celestial (as well as pronounce them correctly, which she found to be the hardest part, or at least the part Caleb was the most stubborn about).  Without checking a watch or phone of any kind, Caleb announced that it was five o'clock, and that he had to go. Beau had spared a quick glance at her phone and was bewildered to find that it was exactly five--on the dot. She also had a text.

 

**From: Jester**

BEAU I OGT ANOTHDR PAINT BOMB COME TO THE CHEM BUIDLING NOW NOW NOW!!!!!!

 

Alright, guess that decided where Beau was headed next.  "So, uhh," she began as she exited the library with Caleb.  "Thanks for helping me, I guess."

"Of course, Beauregard," he responded quietly.  "Thank you for not speaking to anyone about my enrollment."

"Yeah, of course."  There was a long pause as both of them stood outside the library doors.  "Well, I'll see you...another time?" Gods, why was she so painfully awkward?

Caleb nodded, and they both headed their separate ways.  Except, Beau realized after walking for about 30 seconds, that Caleb was also walking in her direction, trailing her by about 5 or so feet. 

Beau turned around, glaring at Caleb.  "Are you following me?"

Caleb tensed up. "Nein, I am, ah, going to the chemistry building.  To meet a friend."

Beau deflated. "Oh," she said lamely.  "Well I'm, uh. Going there too."

Caleb did not look very pleased with that information, but nodded and fell into lockstep with Beau.  After 10 minutes of painful silence walking across campus, Beau breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Jester standing outside the chemistry building.  She appeared to be talking with a small child? Or maybe a halfling? From this distance, Beau couldn't really tell. As the two walked closer, Jester noticed them, grinning and waving.  The smaller figure looked up at them, and Beau saw two wide yellow eyes. Okay, definitely not a halfling then. 

"Beau!" Jester yelled at the same time the smaller figure yelled "Caleb!"  She appeared to be a goblin, with long black hair that fell in front of her face.  She was wearing a white lab coat over a dark jacket with the hood up, and it looked like there were dozens of multicolored buttons sewn into the hem.  Not sparing Beau a glance, the goblin rushed over to Caleb, grabbing his hand and furiously inspecting it like she was going to find injuries. "You're late," she said with a huff, and holy shit was Caleb smiling?  It was a weird look on him, she decided.

"Ja, well I was coming from the library today,  _schwester,_ " he said softly.  "It took a bit longer to get here."

Jester gasped dramatically, looking to Caleb and then to Beau and then to the goblin.  "WAIT a second," she began. "Your Caleb…" she pointed at the goblin. "and  _your_ Caleb," she pointed at Beau.  "are the  _same Caleb?!_ "

Beau was suddenly very confused.  She heard Caleb mutter to the goblin girl, "Nott, what is she talking about?"

Jester marched up to a very frazzled looking Caleb Widogast, sticking her hand out.  "My name is Jester Lavorre," she grinned. "And I have heard a  _lot_ about you, Caleb."  Caleb looked at Beau, wide eyed.  Beau just shrugged. He gingerly took Jester's hand, but didn't say anything.   

Jester shook ferociously, then turned to Beau.  "Beau, Nott's my TA! She made the paint bomb-"

"Fluffernutter," the goblin called Nott corrected. 

"Oh ja, fluffernutter, we just changed the name," Jester said with a shrug.  "She's super cool, though, we're thinking of starting a business making fluffernutter art!"

Beau looked down at Nott. "Hey," she said gruffly.

Nott narrowed her eyes.  "And how do  _you_ know Caleb?" she asked, her tone hard.

Those glowing yellow eyes sure did make Beau feel like she was being put under interrogation.  "Uhh, well-"

"We are classmates, Nott," Caleb surprisingly spoke up, cutting Beau off.  "It is okay."

Upon hearing this, Nott's suspicious demeanor melted away, and her posture relaxed.  She smiled at Beau, a wide smile with jagged teeth. "Oh, well it's nice to see you're making friends, Caleb."  Beau saw Caleb frown at that. At least that was one thing they could agree on.

Jester squealed excitedly, clutching her hands together.  " _Ohmygosh_ guys, this is so wonderful!"  she exclaimed. "Now we can all be friends forever!"

Nott smiled.  Beau grimaced.  Caleb looked like he was looking for a quick escape.  

Jester pulled a small, balloon looking ball out of her dress pocket, grinning in the familiar way she always did before pulling some chaotic stunt.  "And I know the  _perfect_ way to officially christen this friendship." 

Nott looked at what Jester was holding in her hand and mirrored Jester's expression.  Oh no.

" _Fluffernutter,"_ the two said in unison.  Beau ducked as Jester slammed the paint bomb onto the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Molly is the quintessential college friend who is always just,,,over at your place. The Kramer friend, if you will.
> 
> I used Greek for Celestial mostly cause it looks so pretty and is also old as fuck. Here are the translations (just in google so I apologize if its super inaccurate):
> 
> θεός - god
> 
> μιλάς ουράνιος? - you speak celestial?
> 
> Ναι, είναι η μητρική μου γλώσσα - yes, it is my mother tongue


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all--sorry for the shorter chapter, it was more of an issue with story flow than anything else
> 
> Enjoy!

Beau walked into her  _ Ancient Languages _ class, only 5 minutes late this time instead of her usual 15 to not-at-all.  She saw the familiar figure of Caleb sitting in the back as usual, hunched over and taking diligent notes.  As she sat down a few empty seats away from him, he briefly looked over at her before returning to his writing.  Despite Jesters literally explosive declaration of their friendship a few days prior, Caleb had been no less chilly with her.  Not that she had expected anything different, obviously. Beau noticed the small spots of yellow paint still on his coat ( _ did he ever wash that thing??)  _ from the aforementioned friendship declaration.  He probably was owed some kind of explanation from that, she figured.

Beau ripped a page out of her notebook and quickly scrawled down a message.   _ Sorry about your coat.  Jester can be a lot at first.   _ She leaned over and slipped it onto the corner of Caleb's desk.

He tensed, not looking at her as he slowly picked up the piece of paper and read it.  Then he continued to write in his notebook. Beau gritted her teeth. She had almost forgotten that she was so disliked by Caleb that she essentially had to get him in a corner to get any kind of response from him.  She rolled her eyes, turning back to the lecture.

Around five minutes later, though, to Beau's surprise, her note landed back on her desk, with a response written under her messy handwriting in script so neat it looked typed.   _ It is alright.  I am not unused to random chemical explosions from Nott.  I can assume that your friend is the same way. _

Beau smirked.  He wasn't wrong there.  She wrote her response and passed the piece of paper back to Caleb.   _ Yeah, she can be a handful, but she means well, I promise. _

This time, the response was immediate.   _ She is certainly very...blue. _

Was Caleb making a joke? Beau looked over at him, but he was stone faced as usual, laser focused on the lecture.  She decided to push her luck a bit.  _ As much as your goblin friend is green.  How did you guys meet, if you don't mind me asking? _

She watched him read her message, frown, and then tuck it under his notebook, ignoring her _.   _ Beau scowled.  Alright, point taken.  He didn't have to be so goddamn rude about it, though.  She rubbed her temples and turned her attention back to Professor Errenis's droning voice.  

 

\-----------------

 

"Okay okay, just move, like, a  _ liiiitle  _ bit over that way"

"Like this?"

"Ya, perfect!"

As usual, Beau's room was never empty.  Jester was crouched down on the floor with her giant (and very expensive) camera, pointing it at a dramatically posed Mollymauk, who was displaying one of Jester's splatter paintings to his side.  Caleb's goblin friend (Nott, was it?) was also there for some reason, sitting on Jester's bed with Jester's sticker-covered laptop in front of her. Her brow was furrowed in concentration as she clicked around on it.

As Beau closed the door behind her, all three of them turned to look.  Jester broke out into a big grin. "Beau! I'm so glad you're here! Nott and I are making a website for our art business!"

"And what does he have to do with it?" Beau asked skeptically, pointing at Molly.

"Cmon Beau, you couldn't guess?" Molly drawled, flipping his hair back over his shoulders and grinning.  "I'm the face of the operation."

Beau rolled her eyes and flopped down on her bed, not deigning that comment with a response.  Nott turned the laptop around to show Jester what had to be the gaudiest and most eye strain inducing webpage Beau had ever seen.  "So," she began. "Pink background or green background?"

Jester leaned closer to the screen, narrowing her eyes.  "Hmmmm, I dunno, Nott, you sure we can't do both?"

"Lemmie try some things." Nott turned the laptop back to her, clicking around furiously.

"So," Molly began casually, switching poses for Jester.  "How's that class you're failing, Beau?"

Beau shut her eyes.  She knew Molly was only being playfully obnoxious, but the subject of her failure brought up a ton of ugly hypotheticals Beau had thought she was long past worrying about, and it was getting harder and harder to shrug it off.  "Shut up Molly," she growled.

Molly blinked.  "Alright, alright, jeez," he said apologetically, raising his hands.  

"Awww, Beau, I'm sure it's gonna be okay," Jester encouraged.  "Besides, isn't Caleb helping you now?"

At the mention of Caleb, Nott perked up.  "Caleb is very smart, and  _ very _ talented," she said proudly.  "He knows all sorts of things..  If he's helping you, there's no way you could fail."

"See?" said Jester happily, as if that were all the assurance Beau needed in the world.  "You totally aren't gonna fail!"

Molly smirked, amused.  "This Caleb fellow seems like quite the guy.  When do I get to meet him?"

Jester gasped.  " _ Ohmygosh _ , Nott."

"What."

"I just had.  The  _ greatest idea. _ "  Jester jumped up, running over to Molly's bag and rummaging through it for a few seconds before pulling out a colorful, glitter covered flyer and waving it in front of Nott's face.  "You and Caleb should come to Molly's show! That way everyone can meet you and see how awesome you are!"

Beau pushed herself back up into a sitting position.  Nott she could maybe see enjoying a Moondrop show, but the thought of humorless, nervous Caleb having a good time with all of Molly's crazy theater friends almost made her laugh.  Almost. She could see that Nott felt the same doubt, though, as the goblin obviously didn't mirror Jester's enthusiasm when she took the flyer from her hands.

"I'll…" Nott faltered, folding up the flyer and sticking it in her pocket.  "I'll ask him."

Molly smiled.  "Tell him I'll throw in a free tarot reading if he shows."

"Who the hell pays for your tarot readings in the first place?" Beau interjected.

"Fuck you, Beau."

"Fuck you, Molly."

Molly began to respond when their door opening interrupted him and a familiar half-orc stepped in.  

"Hey, Mol, you seen my-"  Fjord froze, hand on the doorknob.  He was staring at Nott, wide eyed.

A tense silence filled the room.  Molly and Beau shared a concerned look. 

Nott returned the stare.  Then her eyes slowly narrowed.

"Hello, Fjord, _ "  _ she said calmly, voice laced with venom.

"What.  The hell.  Are  _ you _ doing here?"  Fjord exclaimed.   

"Oh my gosh, you guys already know each other, that's so great!" Jester said cheerfully, though Beau could hear the underlying strain in her voice.  Many people confused Jester's extreme aversion to conflict for naivety. Beau was not one of them. 

Fjord, unfortunately, was not as perceptive.  "It's not great! She made my last semester living hell!" he spat, pointing one accusatory finger at Nott.

"Jester, darling," said Nott sweetly, choosing to ignore Fjord completely.  "Do you want me to get him out of here for you? I totally could, I mean, look at him, he's so tiny-"

"I am  _ not!"  _ Fjord stammered.

Nott jumped down from Jester's bed, grinning up at Fjord maliciously.  "Keep telling yourself that," she hissed. "Lie to yourself, and then lie to me some more about how  _ great _ you are at handling my lab equipmen-"

" _ Alright,  _ alright, that's enough."  Molly stepped forward, ushering both Nott and Fjord out the door.  "Come on, let's take it outside." As he pushed the glowering pair out, he gave Beau a pointed look over his shoulder. 

And then the door closed, leaving Beau and Jester alone in the room.  Right, okay. Beau looked over at Jester, who was still holding her camera and frowning at the door.  

"Listen, Jes-"

"That was so weird, right?" Jester cut her off, a tight grin on her face.  "I mean, you know Caleb who knows Nott who knows Fjord, it's kinda crazy, ja?"

"It didn't seem like they were friends, Jester."

Jester's smile faltered.  "Well, ja, but…." She trailed off.  Beau hated doing it, but sometimes it was easiest to cut right to the chase.

"You know it has nothing to do with you, right?"  Beau asked gently.

"Ja, I know."  Jester deflated, putting her camera on her desk and sitting down on her chair.  "I just like them both so much, and it would be super awesome if we could all hang out together!"  She pouted, crossing her arms.

"You still can," Beau said simply.  "I'm sure they both like you more than they hate each other, so they can honestly suck it up."  Beau wasn't actually so sure about that (for Nott, at least), but hey, Molly and Beau had made a truce for Jester, so there was historical precedent for it.

Jester let out a little chuckle at that.  "Yeah," she said, the cheerfulness in her voice sounding much less forced.  "If they won't get along," she paused, a devious smile creeping onto her lips.  "I'll just have to  _ trick  _ them into getting along."

Beau smiled.  That was more like it. 

 

\-----------------

 

_ The search continues for potential leads regarding the murder of prominent public figure and civil rights activist, Martin Isele.  Isele, 45, was found dead in his Zidash home this morning, and recent autopsy reports have shown signs of poison in his system. There was no sign of a break in, nor any reports of suspicious persons by any witnesses the night before.  The case reportedly has local law enforcement stumped, and there are rumors the Assembly may step in to investigate…  _

Beau sighed, closing out of her news app and looking around once again for any sign of Caleb.  Nothing. She had been waiting outside the library for 15 minutes now, and her annoyance at his tardiness had worn away into confusion.  In the few times Caleb had tutored her so far, he had not once been late. In fact, he had arrived exactly on-the-dot every time. When she had asked him about it once, he had simply tapped his head and made a vague remark about how he always knew what time it was.  So that did rule out the possibility that Caleb had lost track of time. Was he sick?  _ No,  _ Beau thought to herself.  She had seen him in lecture this morning, and he had looked fine.   _ Maybe he just forgot? _  That was probably the least likely reason of all, considering how seriously he took their "deal".  

"Hey," a familiar scratchy voice shook Beau out of her thoughts.  She looked down. Nott was standing in front of her, clutching a messy stack of papers in her hands.  She held them out to Beau. "Caleb asked me to give you these. He said to memorize the terms for Monday, and that if you have any questions to write them down for him."

Beau gingerly took the papers, scanning over the first page. Goddamn, that looked like a lot of terms. __ She sighed, internally mourning her weekend plans.  "So, where is Caleb anyway?" she asked nonchalantly.

"He wasn't feeling well.  I took him home but he insisted I go deliver these to you."  Nott paused, staring directly at Beau. "I wanted to stay, but he was  _ very  _ insistent.  Desperate, even."

Uh oh.  Beau looked off to the side, trying to formulate a response.  "Well, that's-"

"And  _ then  _ he told me about your little arrangement."

_ Shit.   _ Well, no point trying to make dumb excuses now.  Beau deflated. "Listen," she began apologetically.  "I'm sorry. It was a dick move." Nott did not respond.  "If it makes it any better, I was never going to actually tell on him."

"It was a dick move,"  Nott retorted, eyes narrowed.  "And I figured."

Wait, what?  

"Jester has talked about you too often and too fondly for you to be a truly bad person," Nott continued.  "I trust her and she trusts you."

"Um, thanks, I guess?"  said Beau lamely. "But if you knew I wasn't gonna snitch, why didn't you just tell Caleb that in the first place?"

"He wouldn't have believed me," Nott said softly.  That Beau could get. If the guy still could hardly look Beau in the eyes, an affirmation of trust probably wouldn't help much, even if it came from a friend.

"Well," Beau started slowly, mentally cursing herself for what she was about to say next.  "I guess I could tell him. I mean, I probably should've in the first place, but I kinda desperately needed the help in that class, and-"

"No."

"No?"  Beau frowned.  She had assumed that was where Nott was going with her quasi- interrogation.

"I don't want you to stop studying with him.  Caleb...he is very smart, but he doesn't like to come out of his shell."  Nott looked down, wringing her hands. "I want him to make more friends. I think it would be good for him."

There was something...disarmingly sweet about that statement.  Something about the concern in the goblin's yellow eyes that made Beau bite back her typical 'we aren't friends' retort.  

" _ But-"  _ Nott's gaze snapped back up to meet Beau's again, as threatening as before.  "If you ever do something to hurt him, or betray his trust, you  _ will _ live to regret it _. _ "

Beau blinked, exhausted by the emotional whiplash of their conversation.  "Noted." she squeaked.

Nott smiled, all of the venom gone from her demeanor in an instant.  "Good," she said matter-of-factly. "And one more thing." Beau watched her fish through her jacket pocket before pulling out a small notepad and a pen.  She wrote something down, tore off the page, and handed it to Beau. "Here's my number in case of emergencies. Caleb will meet you here this Friday." 

_ Emergencies? What emergencies?  _ Beau opened her mouth to ask, but Nott was already walking away.

 

\-----------------

 

**To: Dairon**

_ got an 88 on my most recent lecture quiz, by the way _

 

**To: Dairon**

_ i know you said to talk to Zeenoth rn but that dude fucking sucks _

 

**To: Dairon**

_ anyways just thought i should let you know _

 

**To: Dairon**

_ later _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my outline notes for this chapter were literally:
> 
> -fjord and nott see each other  
> -queue wild west showdown music


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey I'm not dead and neither is this fic!! This semester has been crazy for me and I have had very little time to write for fun, but with Christmas break here I have been able to finish this chapter, which I then realized was like...8000 words or so? So anyways I am splitting it up and the latter half will hopefully be done in the next couple of days!! So yeah sorry for being inactive, life can be a bitch, and enjoy!
> 
> (That being said, mind the new tags)

With only four days left till their opening performance, the Fletching & Moondrop Performing Arts Building was buzzing with activity.  Ducking past students with their arms full of props (and under a long table two people were in the middle of carrying), Beau pushed the double doors open into the main theater.  The large auditorium was just as busy as the outside, with people sitting in random seats, going over lines, fixing their costumes, and--

"Oh,  _ Oskar!  _ If my father ever found out about our secret love, he'd never let me leave the grounds ever again!  Whatever shall we do?"

"...What are my lines again?"

"Oskar romantically proposes to Genevieve that they run away together, so their love no longer has to be hidden away!"

"Okay okay...ah, Genevieve, I love you so, so much...let's... _ go _ ...to, um, where are they going?"

"Just  _ away!  _ They don't care  _ where,  _ as long as they are together.  And then he's like, the fire of our love is so strong that...oh hi Beau!"

Jester was standing on stage, in the middle of the half-constructed set, dramatically leaning on a very flustered looking Yasha.  Behind them Mollymauk and Gustav, the almost as ostentatious senior who managed the entire Moondrop crew, were looking at one of the unfinished background paintings.  

"Hey Beau," Molly parroted, not bothering to turn around.  "Jester, could we get your art brain to help us on this?"

Jester looked down at Beau, smirked, and raised her eyebrows in a ' _watch this'_ gesture. "Of course, Molly," she said cheerily, before frowning and furrowing her brow in a parody of concern.  "But wait, Yasha, you were being such a good Oskar, I wouldn't wanna leave you without a Genevieve!"

Oh gods.  Beau knew where this was going.

Jester gasped, suddenly turning to look at Beau.  "Wait, Beau, maybe you can be Genivieve while I'm painting! That way Yasha can still practice her lines for the next time we go see Tusk Love!"

Yep, there it was.  Beau put her head in her hands, cursing under her breath.  Not that swooning into Yasha's incredibly toned arms wasn't absolutely at the top of her to-do list, of course.  She had just hoped for a better occasion to pitch the idea. Beau prayed to all the gods in the world that the house lights were dim enough to mask her burning face, and made a reminder to have a little chat with Jester about subtlety. 

"I...um," Yasha stammered, and Beau could have sworn she saw a dusting of pink on her cheeks as well.

"It's, um.  I'm fine," Beau said, desperately trying to change the subject.  "Why don't I help you move some heavy shit instead? That's what I'm good for."  It wasn't what she was  _ good  _ for, per say, but it was what Beau was technically here to do.  

"Of course," Yasha, replied, looking relieved.  "It's all in the back rooms behind the stage."

Beau dropped her bag down onto one of the seats before climbing up onto the stage to follow Yasha.  The two carefully made their way back behind the set and down a very cramped stairwell to the basement rooms that housed most of the props at the Moondrop.  

"So," Beau began.  "You're gonna come to see Tusk Love with us, huh?"

"Ja...if that is alright with you.  I know it is kind of, ah, your thing."

Beau silently winced behind Yasha.  Had she sounded hostile? Ugh, she was so bad at this.  "No no no I'd," Beau caught herself. "We'd love to have you come! Really.  And um, don't think you have to act it out with Jester. I mean, if you  _ want to-" _

"Ah, no, I'm good." Yasha responded quickly.  "There is a reason I'm only on stage when its being set up."

"Hah!"   _ Wait, was that a joke or not? _   Beau cleared her throat.  "I mean, I um, totally feel you. I get stage fright too."

"Ja, well, reenactment or not, I am excited to see it in theaters."

"Hate to break it to you, but it's really not that great of a movie.  Not that great is an understatement, actually." Beau didn't know what Molly had told Yasha, but when he and Jester first pitched  _ Tusk Love  _ to her, Molly called it the greatest love story ever told.  

Yasha paused, thinking.  "Well, I have only been to a movie theater once before.  So it is still sort of exciting to go, you know. Even if the movie is...not great."

Beau frowned.  "You've really only seen a movie in theaters once?"

"Ja.  I am from a very small town."

"That's um.  That's cool, I guess." 

Yasha didn't respond, instead pulling open one of the unmarked doors to her right and waving away the dust that spilled out with one hand.  She stepped forward, feeling along the wall for the light switch, then flicked it on. A single bulb revealed a dimly lit room full of various pieces of furniture.  

"Gustav said they needed those 6,"  Yasha said, pointing to the antique looking chairs in the corner near the door.  She stepped over a rolled up rug and grabbed 2 chairs under each arm with an ease that made them look like they were made of styrofoam.   _ Hot. _   Beau went to grab the other two, and nope, they most decidedly weren't.

As Yasha carried and Beau half carried/half dragged the chairs back to the main stage, Yasha spoke up again.  "So. Mollymauk told me that your friend Caleb may come to see the show?"

"Yeah, maybe," Beau responded, trying to sound much less out of breath than she actually was lugging the two chairs up the stairs.  "And he's more of a tutor than a friend."

"Ah."

There was a moment of silence.  

"Why do you ask?" 

"Well," said Yasha softly.  "It was nice to speak Celestial, I suppose.  I did not know anyone else spoke it conversationally in the Empire."

"In the Empire?" The words were out before she could stop herself.  Beau grimaced, scolding herself for being so goddamn nosy. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"No, it's...it's fine," Yasha responded, leaning over to push open the door at the top of the stairs.  "I am actually, ah, from Xhorhas."

Beau blinked.  Xhorhas, huh. Beau had expected the coast, perhaps, or even Tal'Dorei, but Xhorhas?  Not that Beau paid much attention to the news, but even the most uninformed knew about the constant cold war the Empire and Xhorhas were waging.  Last she had heard, the border along the Ashkeeper range had been literally closed down. "That's…huh."

"I know many people over here do not like Xhorhas very much."

"No no no, it's not that!" Beau reassured quickly.  "I really couldn't give less of a shit about all that.  It's just, well...surprising is all."

When Yasha didn't respond, Beau wanted to curl up into a ball and die.  Why did all of her hard earned knowledge of polite social interactions fly out the window when she needed it most?  _ Stupid, stupid, stupid! _

"So, they speak Celestial in Xhorhas?"  Beau asked as casually as she could, desperately trying to salvage their conversation.

"No, just in the area where I am from," Yasha said, setting down the chairs on the stage.  

"What's it like?," Beau asked, setting down her chairs as well.  "I mean, if you don't mind me asking, of course."

"I don't," Yasha said quietly.  "It's...well, marshy and swampy and grey.  Here is much nicer." She gave a small smile.  "I don't miss it much, but it is nice to hear the language you grew up with, you know?"

Beau nodded, despite not knowing at all.  Yasha usually looked quite intimidating ('a resting bitch face to rival yours,' Molly had once said), but her gentle smile betrayed a much softer side.  Beau wished she could see it more.

 

\-----------------

 

Over the past few weeks of tutoring, Beau had begun to notice more and more about Caleb's whole deal.  Not that he still wasn't a complete weirdo, but his mannerisms became more predictable. He did wash his coat, after all, though seemingly only on the rarest of occasions (Beau had only seen him without it once) and he did in fact have a phone (a flip phone that looked to be about 20 years old, but a phone nonetheless).  She still didn't know how he and Nott had met (he had expertly avoided the question every time she brought it up) but she did know that the two of them lived together in an apartment south of campus, along with a cat named Frumpkin. Beau probably knew more about Frumpkin than she did Caleb at this point, to be perfectly honest. Despite being tight lipped and dismissive of most things Beau asked him, Beau had discovered that when the subject was about his cat, the man could  _ talk.   _ It was sometimes annoying, but often a good way to get Caleb distracted from a worksheet he was being stubborn about moving on from.  

She had also learned he could be  _ spectacularly  _ passive aggressive, especially when she came late to their study sessions, which is why Beau hurried at a pace a little too fast to be enjoyable from the Moondrop Theater.  She was going to be late regardless (well worth it considering the time she got to spend with Yasha), but getting there 2 minutes late as opposed to 10 could generally save her from an entirely insufferable Caleb.  She ascended the steps of the library, looking around briefly before spotting Caleb seated at one of the tables outside, head buried in a thick book.

"Yo," Beau said gruffly.

Caleb looked up at her.  "Ah, hello Beauregard." He closed his book, tucked it into his jacket (how he was able to fit so many books in there was still a mystery to her) and slowly stood up from the table.  "Let us begin."

Well...okay then. No clipped remark about her tardiness.  She wasn't complaining, of course, but it was a little strange.  As she walked with Caleb to the usual table they worked at, Beau began to notice some more.  First off, the bags under his eyes were much darker and more pronounced than usual, and his eyes seemed cloudy and unfocused.  His face was flushed, and Beau could see sweat gathering on his brow.  

"Hey, man, are you good?" asked Beau as they sat down at their usual quiet spot in the corner of the library.  "Cause i'm not gonna lie, you kinda look like hell."

"I'm fine, Beauregard."

"Bullshit."

Caleb gave her a tired look.  "I am fi-" He wasn't able to finish the sentence, breath hitching as he let out a rasping cough into the crook of his elbow.  Beau crossed her arms, looking over at him with raised eyebrows. Caleb saw her  _ 'I told you so'  _ expression and sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"It is just a small cold.  I really am alright."

"You sure it isn't something more contagious, cause I  _ really  _ don't want you getting me sick-"

"I am  _ fine,  _ Beauregard."  Caleb's tone was icy, reserved for when he was done arguing about something with her.  Beau glowered. For someone so soft spoken, Caleb could be tremendously stubborn.

"Fine, whatever, but if I get sick I'm gonna kick your ass."

 

\-----------------

 

30 minutes into their study session and Caleb was most decidedly  _ not  _ fine.  He was being even more of a strict asshole with her than normal (which Beau hadn't thought possible, until now) but his usual laser focus and perfect grasp of the material was faltering.   His cough hadn't subsided, and it looked like he was using almost all of his energy to stop himself from falling asleep at the library table. 

"Caleb _. _ "

"Hmm?"

"What were you saying about the Celestial roots?"

Caleb blinked a few times, eyes refocusing on the page in front of them.  They had been on the same question for the past 5 minutes, but for the first time the holdup was more due to Caleb than it was to Beau.  She had asked him about the meaning of one of the Celestial words, and he had gone off on a long tangent that had slowly devolved into unintelligible muttering.  "Oh, ja, of course," he said hastily, adjusting the paper to get a better look at it. Beau watched him read the question. Then he read it again. Then again.

She sighed. "Caleb," she began slowly, diplomatically.

"Mmm."

"You like,  _ really  _ don't look so good. I think you need to see a doctor."

Caleb's fingers, which had been tracing the words along the page, froze.  He then shook his head and continued to read.

Beau's jaw clenched. " _ Caleb. _ "

Caleb continued to read, pretending not to hear her.  It was remarkably childish, but two could play at that game.  Beau reached out and slid the paper out from under him, which managed to get his attention.  

"Beauregard, we aren't done."  He was glaring at her, but he looked more tired than anything else.

"Nope, yeah we are," Beau said simply, beginning to pack up her things.  "Come on, there's a campus walk-in clinic on the way back to my dorm, I can drop you off there."

"I...I do not need that, Beauregard.  I am  _ fine. _ "  Caleb's drew his arms tight across his chest, fingernails digging into his forearms.  

Beau gritted her teeth.  "Why are you being so fucking difficult about this, Caleb?" she hissed.  "You aren't helping yourself being out like this, and you sure as hell aren't helping  _ me-" _

"If you feel that I am not helping you study, you are certainly welcome to leave," Caleb deadpanned, which managed to piss Beau off even more than any outright expression of anger.

Beau let out a sardonic laugh.  "And just leave you here to pass out on the table? I'm pretty sure Nott would  _ literally  _ kill me, so no thanks."

"You are being hyperbolic, and you know it."

Beau zipped up her backpack with much more force than needed. "Let me take you to a doctor,"  she said firmly.

_ "No."   _ And there it was, the ice again, Caleb digging his heels down, an immovable object.  But there was something else to it, too. The wide eyes, the rigid posture, the unmistakable hint of fear in his voice along with the anger.  

When Beau was 8 years old, she had wandered into her father's study, despite knowing it was off limits.  In a case behind his desk were dozens of antique wine bottles from Lionett Vineyards, some of which dated back to hundreds of years ago, when the company was first founded.  Beau hadn't known that at the time, of course, but found herself transfixed by the glittering crystalline bottles, and decided to take one out to inspect it closer. When Beau's mother found her in the study, surrounded by shards of glass, it was already too late.  And while she remembered her mother's furious words as she was dragged back to her room, as well as what came after, when Beau thought back to that day, what really stuck out was her mother's face when she realized what she was going to have to answer for.

Caleb was making the same face.  And Beau had no goddamn idea what to think of that.

She took a deep breath, deciding to push those thoughts away for a later date.  She raised up her hands in surrender. " _ Okay _ , okay,"  she said, trying to sound neutral.  "But can I at least walk you to the Chem Building?  Nott won't kill me in my sleep, and you won't die in a library, so that's a win-win, right?  Besides, I promised Jester I'd pick up her missing lab packet anyways, so..."

Beau trailed off, looking over at Caleb expectantly.  The look in his eyes was still there, but he deflated a little, hands relaxing and settling in his lap.  He nodded, not meeting her gaze, and shakily got up from his chair. As the two left the library, Beau fell into quiet lock step beside him.  Though she was worried Caleb wasn't going to even make it down the steps, the fresh air seemed to steady him a bit, and the two walked silently towards the Chem building.

 

\-----------------

 

Fjord, Jester, and Beau walked through the mostly empty campus of Zidash University, the early spring night still bringing a chill to the air.  Jester was nearly jumping out of her skin with excitement, running up ahead and intermittently stopping and waiting for Fjord and Beau, who were taking a more leisurely pace.  

"Guys! C'mon!" Jester exclaimed, standing with her hands on her hips around 10 feet in front of Beau and Fjord.  "We're gonna be late for the show!"

"Jes, the show doesn't start 'till 8," said Fjord, amused.  "We got time."

"I know _ ,  _ but Molly said he was gonna be doing tarot readings beforehand,  _ and, _ " Jester flashed a toothy grin.  "I want Yasha to see how good Beau looks."

Jester had insisted Beau and Fjord meet up to "get ready" for the Moondrop show an hour before they planned on going.  This had culminated in 5 minutes of Jester braiding Beau's hair, and then another 55 minutes of Fjord and Beau playing Mario Kart on Beau's floor while Jester did her makeup.  

Beau decided to ignore the Yasha comment.  "I'm not sprinting so I can see Molly do some superstitious bullshit," she said flatly.

"It's not bullshit, it's fate!" Jester retorted, spinning around and taking off further down the path.  

When Fjord and Beau finally arrived at the Moondrop building, Jester was already excitedly chatting with an equally excited Mollymauk and a more demure Yasha.  Molly had a small table set out in front of the entrance, right at the base of the stairs. It was covered with some ridiculous floral tapestry, and there was a small folded paper sign that listed tarot readings, complimentary of the Fletching & Moondrop Theater Troupe.  Beau rolled her eyes, but nonetheless joined Jester at the table, looking down at her tarot reading.

"...and here we have...the Lovers, oh, this is a good one, dear."

Jester smiled, eyes glittering.  "You think so?"

Molly leaned forward in his seat. "I  _ know  _ so."

"Oh, come  _ on, _ " Beau began, exasperated.  "You know he just has the cards memorized-"

" _ Jester!!" _

Beau was cut off by the sound of a familiar, screeching voice.  Nott was running towards the table, waving her hands frantically.  Trailing behind her, hands shoved into the pockets of his coat, was Caleb.   _ Huh.   _ While Beau had thought Nott may show up, she hadn't expected Caleb to come along as well, especially since they hadn't parted on the best of terms the last time she had seen him. Despite not trying to think much of their last tutoring session, Caleb's reaction to the entire situation had made Beau uneasy in a way that was uncomfortable to dwell on.  He  _ did  _ look better, though, if better meant the Caleb-typical levels of dishevelled as opposed to looking to be on death's door.

Trying to play it cool, she gave him a little wave.  Caleb pretended not to notice.  _  Typical.  _

Beau rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to her friends.  Nott was now situated in front of Molly's tarot table, leaning forward with wide eyes as Molly pulled a card with a flourish.  

"Oh, the Moon.  This is a  _ very  _ interesting card.  It means you should trust your instincts and intuitions."

"You think I should?"

Molly leaned back in his chair and shrugged.  "It's not me giving the advice, dear, it's the cards."

Nott took the moon card in both hands, inspecting it closely.  "This is  _ amazing,"  _ she said softly.  "Can you teach me how to do it?"

Molly smiled coyly.  "Sorry...Nott, was it?"

Nott nodded furiously.

"Sorry Nott, I gotta keep some of my secrets."  Molly reached over and plucked the card out of Nott's small hand.  "Can't have you running me out of business."

"Also, Molly promised he would teach  _ me  _ first!" Jester piped up.  "But I promise to teach  _ you  _ first, Nott."

Nott grinned.  "Deal," she said, before stopping and frowning.  "Wait, maybe Caleb already knows how to do this."  She turned around. "Hey Caleb!! Do you know how to read these cards?!"

Caleb, who had been keeping a good distance away from the whole debacle, reluctantly moved closer to the rest of the group.  He sheepishly looked at the tarot cards on the table, picking one up to inspect it.

"Ah...nein, I do not know, I am sorry,"  he said quietly.  

Beau watched Molly silently appraise Caleb for a second, blinking, before a rare genuine smile spread across his face.  "Perhaps you'd like a reading yourself?" Molly said, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. "I'd love to see what the cards have to say about the famous Mr. Caleb I've been hearing  _ all _ about."

_Oh god damnit._ Beau knew that tone all too well.  She had heard Molly use it countless times, before countless drunk hookups and random encounters alike.  It was a tone reserved specifically for those Molly set his sights on romantically, and he was using it on _fucking Caleb._ Not that Beau shouldn't have expected it-- Molly had the weirdest taste in men, women, or otherwise, but _Caleb? Really?_

Beau shot Fjord an exasperated glance across the table.  Fjord just shrugged.

"I...ah…. " Caleb trailed off, not meeting Molly's gaze.  "Perhaps another time."

Molly's smile faltered, but only momentarily.  "I'm holding you to that," he said, a little too cheerfully.  "Just come to the Moondrop and ask for Mollymauk Tealeaf, yeah?"

"Um...ja."

Beau saw Yasha check her phone and then nudge Molly on the shoulder, showing it to him.  Molly gave a small hum, and pushed himself up from his chair, collecting the cards and the sign.  "Well, folks," he said to the group, grinning. "It's showtime. You know where to meet us afterwards."

"Yep, Gustav's, we got it," said Fjord.

"Break a leg!" called out Jester, waving as Molly and Yasha began to make their way to the stage entrance.  "But not really though that would suck!"

"No you should it would be funny!" Beau added.  Molly flipped her off. Beau smiled and returned the gesture.  

"So who's Gustav?" asked Nott.

"He runs the theater group," Beau responded.

"Not only that,"  added Jester, spinning around to face Nott again.  "But he throws these like,  _ super  _ crazy afterparties. "  She grinned, pointing at Nott and Caleb.  "And you two are totally gonna come with us!"

Nott smiled and nodded.  Caleb looked faintly nauseous.

Fjord stepped up next to Jester.  "Now, is that such a good idea?" he began, eyeing Nott with the same distrust Beau had seen when they first met.  "Nott is really small, and all of that alcohol-"

"Is that a challenge?" Nott interrupted.

"What?" Fjord asked, incredulous. 

"You think you can outdrink me?"  

Fjord frowned.  "I...I know I can?  You're half my size, if you haven't noticed."

"You'd pass out before I even felt a buzz," she hissed, smiling menacingly.

Fjord narrowed his eyes.  "You're on."

Jester rolled her eyes dramatically, pushing Fjord and Nott towards the now bustling theater entrance.  "Not right  _ now,  _ you guys, we have to get good seats for the show!  Besides, I did some really cool set paintings that you have to be  _ sober  _ to appreciate!"

Beau breathed an internal sigh of relief.  It seemed that Jester wasn't taking Fjord and Nott's weird animosity towards each other too personally, though Jester was quite good at putting up fronts, so Beau couldn't be too sure.  

As Jester dragged Fjord and Nott towards the entrance, Caleb and Beau trailed behind.  Beau shoved her hands in her pockets, content to walk a few steps ahead as opposed to their awkward silent walks together that had become all too frequent these days.

"Beauregard."

Ugh, she couldn't even have this.  Beau turned to Caleb, easing her pace so they fell into lock step.  "Nice of you to acknowledge me, Caleb," she said sourly.

"I…" Caleb paused for a second.  "I am sorry...I wanted to apologize for earlier, but, ah, I did not feel comfortable doing so around the group."

Beau frowned.  "Apologize for what?"

Caleb looked down.  "The other day. I was not very helpful."

“Helpful?”  Beau asked incredulously.

"Um, ja.  I am willing to schedule a make-up session if you-"

"No, no, Caleb, it's fine," Beau said, hurriedly cutting him off.  "You don't...I'm not that much of an asshole that I would be pissed you got sick, you know."

Caleb paused, considering.  "You were angry the other day.  When we parted."

Beau looked over at Caleb.  His shoulders were tense, and his hands were stuffed in his pockets.  Is that really how he had read the situation? Either Beau really needed to learn how to control her tone, or Caleb had some serious unresolved issues.  Maybe it was both. It probably was. 

"I wasn't angry,"  Beau began evenly, calmly.  "I was just  _ frustrated  _ that you were being so stubborn about going to the clinic."

"Ja, well, I did not need to go." 

Beau gritted her teeth.   _ Come on, keep your cool.   _ "Caleb, you looked like you were going to pass out.  What's the problem with seeing a professional?"

Caleb remained silent for a moment, before turning to look at her with a blank expression.  "I appreciate your concern, Beauregard," he said, tone clipped and formal. "And I apologize for my behavior the other day.  It will not happen again."

Yep.  This conversation was over.  Why did she even bother? Talking to Caleb was like trying to converse with a fucking brick wall.  "Yeah, whatever, Caleb," Beau grumbled, stalking off towards the rest of the group. She made her way through the ever- growing crowd outside the performing arts building and into the theater.  After quickly scanning the room, Beau saw Jester strategically seated between Fjord and Nott, munching on snacks she was technically not supposed to have. Beau plopped down next to Fjord, still glowering.

"You good?"  Beau turned to Fjord, who was giving her a mildly concerned look.  Behind him, Nott and Jester were taking turns throwing peanut M&Ms into the air and catching them in their mouths.  Beau also saw Caleb silently take a seat beside Nott.

She sighed.  "Ugh, yeah, it's nothing, just can't wait to get drunk."

Fjord gave her a sympathetic smile, eyes briefly darting over to Nott.  "Yeah, tell me about it."

\--------------------

 

The show was as wild as Beau had come to expect.  With a rather small performing arts major, the Moondrop shows tended to involve all sorts of talents piled together.  Beau was generally the most impressed with the dancing abilities of the two sisters, Mona and Yuli, but their new member, a freshman named Toya, had one of the most beautiful voices Beau had ever heard in her life.  She made a mental note not to berate the show to Molly's face when Toya was in earshot.  

After the show got out, Beau and the others had made their way to the back entrance to meet up with the rest of the Moondrop crew, and the large group began to make their way a few blocks North to where Gustav shared a house with a bunch of the upperclassmen in the performing arts major at Zidash University.  Silently walking beside Jester, who was in animated conversation with Nott about how amazing the show was, Beau began to look around for any sign of Yasha. She hadn't seen her during the show, which was honestly a testament to Yasha's ability to stay hidden while switching out sets, considering her size. Trying to appear casual, Beau turned around and saw her walking at the edge of the group a ways behind her...talking to Caleb.   _ Gods dammit.   _ Regardless of Yasha, Beau was not ready to be dragged into another non-conversation with her weird tutor who had managed to embed himself into their friend group.  

At that moment, she made eye contact with Yasha, who gave Beau a little wave.  Fuck, she must have been staring for too long. Sighing, Beau slowed her pace to match theirs.

" _ Heyyyy _ , Yasha,"  Beau began.  "Uh. Hi Caleb."

To Beau's surprise, Yasha gave her a smile.  "Hello, Beau," she replied, an uncharacteristic lightness in her voice.  "Caleb and I were just talking about you. Did you enjoy the show?"

Beau looked over at Caleb, eyes narrowing.  "I loved the show," she replied. "What were you guys talking about?"

"Caleb was telling me that you are learning Celestial, for your class," she said softly.  "It is, ah, not a very easy language to learn, but he tells me you are picking it up very well."

"Yeah, well, um," Beau retorted, clearing her throat.  "I... _ είμαι η αρχή _ ." 

The sound of Yasha's... _ laughter?  _ Beau looked up in bewilderment to see Yasha chuckling and shaking her head.  She had never heard Yasha laugh before, and was now pretty sure it was perhaps the most wonderful sound she had ever heard.  

Beau smiled sheepishly, hoping Yasha wouldn't notice her reddening face in the dim streetlight.  "That bad, huh?"  

"No, no, you were very close," Yasha replied.  " _ είμαι αρχάριος." _

" _ είμαι αρχάριος?"  _ Caleb, who had been silent and stony faced ever since Beau had walked over, spoke up.

"Um, ja."

Caleb's brow furrowed.  "Well, this is embarrassing," he began.  " _ είμαι η αρχή _ was what I taught Beauregard, and how I was taught myself…." he trailed off, considering for a moment, before shrugging.  "One cannot truly teach a language unless they are a native speaker, I suppose."

Wait a second.

Yasha shrugged.  "You speak very well, Caleb," she said.  "But, ah, Beau, if you ever need any clarification in Celestial...as a native speaker...I would be happy to help."

_ Wait a second. _

Caleb pulled his phone out of his pocket, looked at it for a moment, and cleared his throat.  "I am sorry Yasha, Beauregard," he began, face unreadable. "Nott just sent me a message asking which of her fireworks she should set off first at the party tonight, and neither of us have the money to pay for a broken window replacement, so I should, ah.  Talk her down."

"Oh, um. Of course," Yasha responded.

As Caleb picked up his pace to catch up with Jester and Nott, his eyes, which had been expertly avoiding Beau the entire time, met hers.  He gave her an almost imperceptible shrug, and then walked away.

Beau was at a loss for words.  Had Caleb...messed up intentionally?  His grasp on Celestial was flawless, and Beau had not once seen his answers contradict anything in her textbooks (even his delirious rambling the other day she was pretty sure had been correct).  Beau was also pretty sure his old ass flip phone didn't have texting capabilities, so there was that too. Was that some kind of weird apology? Was he actually that socially aware?  _ Was her crush on Yasha really that obvious?  _

"So...fireworks, huh?" Yasha's voice cut through Beau's stupor. 

Beau tried to push the thoughts out of her head for the moment.  "Uh, yeah, and in the hands of those two," Beau paused, gesturing towards Nott and Jester.  "Let's just pray they set them off indoors this time."

Yasha quirked an eyebrow.  "This time?"

"Oh, has Molly not shown you Fluffernutter?"  When Yasha frowned and shook her head, Beau fished her phone out of her pocket, typed in the link, and held it out to her.  Yasha took the phone and began to scroll, brows furrowed.

"This is...very colorful."

Beau began to laugh, but then stopped herself.   _ Was  _ that  _ a joke? Shit.  _ "It's uh, it's made our room pretty colorful as well, what with them setting off the paint bombs on our floor."

Yasha was silent, continuing to look through the various splatter paintings advertised on the gaudy site. 

"I mean," Beau continued, a little nervously.  "Not that I really mind of course, Jester always makes sure to put a tarp up-"

"Do you think they could make me one?"

"Huh?"

"I don't know...I guess really like the colors."  Yasha said offhandedly, continuing to scroll. "Do they accept commissions?"

"I...yeah, I could ask."  Not that Beau needed to, really.  She already knew Jester would be thrilled to do so.

"Thank you, Beau."  Yasha paused, looking a little sheepish.  "And, um, if it would not be too much trouble, I am very curious to see how the...fluffernutter works."

_ Oh my god.  _ "Yeah, yeah!"  Beau responded a little too loud.  "I mean, you're welcome over any time."

Yasha smiled.  "Well, please let me know the next time they use a…" she squinted at the screen.  "...paint bomb."

"Oh, yeah, for sure," Beau responded.  "I'll, um...I'll text Molly when they do."

Yasha frowned, tapped something into Beau's phone, and handed it back to her.  "This may be easier," she said. On Beau's screen was a contact page, with a new number and the name "Yasha Nydoorin".

_ Holyshitholyshitholyshit. _

"I am sorry, I thought you already had my phone number," Yasha continued, seemingly oblivious of Beau's brain short circuiting. 

"I, um," Beau managed to squeak out, mentally berating herself to keep it together.  "I actually didn't think you even had a phone? I know that's weird, but-"

"Oh, no, that's understandable," Yasha retorted, pulling out a phone covered in...rhinestones?  "Molly actually gave me his old one when he found out I didn't own a phone and...well...I have been unable to remove these gems from it, so I don't take it out too much."

"Huh," Beau said dumbly.  She would have usually made some snide comment about how  _ Molly  _ it was to super glue rhinestones to a phone, but she couldn't think of anything clever at the moment because  _ holy shit she had Yasha's number.   _

"Oh, we're here."  Yasha's voice brought Beau back from her thoughts.  Indeed they were. Beau must have not noticed how they were trailing behind the rest of the group, as most were already inside Gustav's large but slightly run down house and she could already hear loud music and chatter coming from inside.  

As the two ascended the stairs to the front door, Beau realized she still had her phone out to Yasha's contact info.  She quickly locked her phone and pocketed it, shaking her head to herself in disbelief as she followed Yasha into the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beau not believing in tarot cards is me projecting the struggle of being a cynic surrounded by astrology obsessed friends


End file.
